


A Family Christmas

by harlequin (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-11
Updated: 2011-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-27 04:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/291722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/harlequin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur discovers there will be an unexpected addition to the Pendragon family Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Family Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> For my darling **BabyD** , for her birthday…

♦

‘Morgana –’ Arthur was saying as he walked into the kitchen. ‘God, he’ll be here any moment… Morgana, what did you do with my –’

Not one but two pairs of sea grey eyes stared at him wide and stormy. Two figures dressed all in black, with tumbles of black hair, were infinitely dark amidst pure white and stainless steel.

‘– cufflinks. What is that?’ Arthur continued, gesturing towards the boy sitting on the kitchen bench, his hands full of shortbread and his mouth crammed full of mince pie.

‘A _child_ , Arthur. What do you think it is?’

‘Yes. What is it doing _here_?’

Morgana was hovering right by the child’s knees, her hands coming to rest on the bench to either side of him, before one of them fluttered up to spread against her heart. She said, with more certainty than her hands betrayed, ‘This is Mordred. He’s going to spend Christmas with us.’

‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ he scoffed.

‘Luckily it’s not up to you –’

‘No, it’s up to my father, and he hates Christmas at the best of times. He’s not going to want some child waking him up at six, looking for a stocking full of trinkets.’

Morgana’s smiled stretched wide with mockery. ‘Are you speaking from personal experience, Arthur?’

‘ _Anyway_ , I’m sure little Morbid there has a home of his own to go to.’ He realised his mistake before he was halfway through the sentence, given that he knew where Morgana’s charitable endeavours had taken her that afternoon – but he still finished strongly enough.

‘Mordred,’ Morgana announced portentously, ‘is an orphan. You wouldn’t deny an orphan a family Christmas, would you?’

‘Oh yes, _do_ play the orphan card yet again, Morgana. We’re certainly not tired of hearing about all your trials and tribulations.’ He cleared his throat, and tugged once more on his unlinked shirt–cuffs, before muttering, ‘It’s not as if you don’t have father wrapped around your little finger, anyway.’

‘Uther would do anything for me,’ she agreed with no little measure of triumph. ‘And I’d do anything for Mordred. Wouldn’t I, you sweet thing…?’ She gently flicked one pale fingertip against the demon child’s pointy chin, and he responded with an endearing smile that Arthur didn’t trust for one single heartbeat. ‘As for _you_ , Arthur…’ Morgana continued. ‘There are limits, I’m afraid.’

‘You astonish me.’

‘But I will find your cufflinks.’ And she swept out as if off on a noble and difficult quest that only she could accomplish.

Arthur was left alone with Morbid, whose sweet innocence abruptly resolved into a cold glare. ‘Huh,’ said Arthur, heading for the refrigerator. ‘Well, at least you and I don’t need to pretend to be festive with each other.’ He hooked the milk jug with one finger, snagged two glasses as he bumped the fridge door closed with a hip, then headed for the kitchen bench – settling a judicious metre away from where the child perched. ‘I might appear to be, Mordred –’ as he poured them each a drink, and handed one over – ‘a civilised man.’

They considered each other for a long moment. At last a hint of puzzlement knotted Morbid’s brow.

‘But orphan or not,’ Arthur eventually continued, quite conversationally, ‘Morgana is family. And if you harm either her or my father, you’ll find out just how ruthless a civilised man can be.’

Another long moment passed. And then a wry little smile tugged the corners of Mordred’s mouth down. They understood each other. The boy held out his glass, and they clinked to seal the agreement before each drinking.

‘Well, then,’ said Arthur. ‘Merry Christmas.’

The doorbell rang, but Merlin let himself in, as he always did these days.

‘Kitchen!’ Arthur called out.

Merlin came in chatting away as usual, though he managed to smack a warm kiss to Arthur’s mouth in the midst of the flow. ‘Arthur! Come on, are you ready? It’s already snowing, the traffic’s going to be – Oh god, what is _that_?’

‘A child, Merlin,’ Arthur supplied, exchanging a quirked eyebrow with Mordred. He was amused to see the boy’s eyes narrow with fathomless speculative wickedness. ‘Morgana’s found herself an orphan to play with for the holidays. I’ll be ready in just a moment.’

Then it was a flurry of Morgana affixing his cufflinks, and an awkward exchange of fraternal kisses and festive wishes between Merlin and Morgana – the newish boyfriend and the brittle stepsister – and then Merlin was heading back out, chatting fretfully again about weather and traffic snarls and how they owed it to Leon and Gwaine not to be late. Apparently Merlin remained completely oblivious to the fact that he’d just found himself a mortal enemy.

Arthur hovered for one last moment, and leant close to Mordred to advise, ‘You’d be a fool to mess with Merlin, you know.’

The boy seemed sceptical, and sat there waiting for another promise of Pendragon protection, a threat of Pendragon retribution.

‘Oh, Merlin doesn’t need me to watch his back. You can find that out the hard way, if you like.’

Mordred stared at Arthur hard, assessing how much credence to give all this. And eventually he nodded. All right, then. He would.

Arthur laughed, and headed out after his love, humming under his breath. ‘ _It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas_ …’

♦


End file.
